


Not Just Black and White

by Anara_Muse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Collars, Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slavery, Torture, collaring, magical coercion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anara_Muse/pseuds/Anara_Muse
Summary: While fully expecting to die during the War, Severus gets a surprise: Life. But instead of a second chance, the "Light" loses. For his birthday after the end of the War, Severus gets another surprise. But will this one be any more pleasant? Knowing his luck, probably not.Previously posted as M/M under An...Un(?)Welcome Surprise





	1. The Art of Receiving Gifts

 

 It was January 9, 1999. and Severus Snape was more than eager for his birthday, and this Inner Circle's meeting, to be over with. Quickly, if possible. Unfortunately, the latter hadn't even started yet, and "Birthday Revelries" for the Dark Lord's most faithful lasted well into the next morning.

            In a little less than four months would be the first anniversary of the self acclaimed "Light" losing what they had thought was their war. The one they deserved to win. The war they put in the hands of an inexperienced, clueless, Muggle-raised witch-girl. The war between The-Girl-Who-Lived and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Or, as Severus snidely called it, The Nameless War. The media put so much stock in names that they ignored real names in trade for titles. It was a pet peeve for Severus as Chrysan--Potter had hated all those insufferable titles.

            Severus cleared his thoughts and strengthened his Occlumency shields when he felt his Mark burn. He answered the call by apparating directly to Malfoy Manor and knelt immediately, finding himself directly before his...lord. "My Lord, you called," he said demurely after kissing Voldemort's hem, barely sparing a glance at Lucius, whose Dark Mark had obviously been the caller.

            "Yes, Severus. Rise, rise, I have something for you. It is your birthday today, is it not?"

            Severus stared at the ground, dread filling his stomach at the madman's downright gleeful tone. "Yes, my Lord, it is."

            "Aren't you going to ask what your gift is?" The snake faced man said dangerously.

"I will be satisfied receiving the knowledge and gift whenever you see fit," he said humbly, forcing down the bile rising in his throat. Oh, why hadn’t he die during the war? So many did, and he had no hope to be among the living--and yet, here he was, not only alive, but forced to be loyal to someone he defected from nearly twenty years ago. Maybe death wasn't such a bad option after all. It would be so easy...

            "Very well. I will give you your present to you now, but you will not be excused from the rest of your revelry. That will be your punishment for not choosing."

            "Yes, my Lord." Was there to be no--

            "Crucio." Ah, there it was.

~*~

   When Severus opened his eyes again, Lord Voldemort bade him rise. Severus stood, trying to hide the shaking that wasn’t as bad as it usually was. Truly the Dark Lord hadn’t gone soft? But then Severus noticed something: right next to the evil Voldemort, glaring for all she was worth was--

            "Chrysanthemum!" he breathed, not daring to utter a sound louder than that. The girl--no, _woman_ \--he had regretted losing so much. Regretted hating, belittling, and not believing. When Voldemort killed her almost a year earlier, Severus went to his pensieve and reviewed all his memories of the brat. Where had he gone wrong? While looking over these memories, he stumbled across the dreaded Occlumency lessons. And there he paused. What he saw, and finally _chose_ to see, was beyond horrid to understand. At first, like those years ago, Severus refused to understand. But eventually, he did. There was no ignoring the abuse. There was no ignoring _Chrysanthemum._ And while it couldn't be called love, what Severus felt was definitely more than nothing, and more amiable than hate. Looking at this very _not-dead_ Chrysanthemum made Severus' insecurities fly to the forefront. Did she even like Severus? Then Severus smiled darkly. Chrysanthemum had been obsessed with the Half-Blood Prince, had she not? Hopefully that still stood, as she was most likely Severus' new gift.

            "I see you know each other," Voldemort cackled as Chrysanthemum tried to run, fighting against the collar and leash holding her back. "I hope you enjoy your new pet, my loyal servant." With that, Voldemort grabbed Chrysanthemum's collar and pushed her forward roughly, letting go of the material at the last second, reveling in the girl-- _woman_ ’s choking sounds.

            Severus coldly stalked over as best he could and gently took Chrysanthemum's leash. “Thank you, my Lord. You are most generous.” He then turned to his gift and coldly said "Get up, Potter." Severus noticed the stiff and trembly way Chrys-Potter stood and walked towards him, her long, messy hair all twigs and tangles and grease. She didn’t stink, oddly enough, except for the stale odor of dirt and blood from her hair. His...Lord must have ordered a bath so she could be some sort of presentable. Obviously, washing hair did not count, or it would have looked soft, fine, and not as disgusting in smell. But she did show obvious signs of malnutrition and serious neglect and/or torture. Knowing the Dark Lord, it would be both.

   Chrysanthemum looked up at her new...master? and saw him nod, seeing something other than coldness and hate in his eyes, almost as terrifying. Chrysanthemum stood up and kissed Severus on the lips, just as she was taught. Gratitude should always be shown like this. She was given permission, and therefore should do what she could to please her master, and limit harm to herself.

   Severus was caught off guard by the enthusiastic kiss, but welcomed it nevertheless. Maybe Chrysanthemum did feel something for him after all. Hopefully, this was not just some twisted Slave Training ingrained in his beautiful woman.


	2. Repercussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter's misplaced warning for torture actually goes here. YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS IMPORTANT; IF IT TRIGGERS DON'T READ!

SO much thanks to Magi for suggesting I actually write a torture scene, and thanks to my non-fangirl friend for the inspiration and beta’ing the torture scene!

 

        The Dark Lord wordlessly conjured up ornate chairs for himself and Severus, ignoring Chrysanthemum as she knelt next to her new…owner? Master sounded better, even if it was only cold comfort. She'd much rather be free. Or dead. Dead sounded like a much more welcome scenario.

        She laid her head on...Master Snape’s leg. Master Snape. She trembled, fearful of how...not comfortable, but almost non threatening it sounded. And wasn’t that confusing in and of itself. Master Snape. That would take time getting used to, but she would have to act as if it were natural and automatic. Oh why did she have to survive that killing curse?

        “My most loyal servant,” the slithering voice of the Dark Lord broke through Chrysanthemum’s misery. Yes, the Dark Lord. She didn’t even have enough defiance left in her to think his self given title let alone his actual name. Talk about pathetic.

        “Yes, my lord,” M...master Snape stood up as Chrysanthemum moved and both bowed.

        “I have a second gift for you, Severus,” the Dark Lord said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

        “My Lord is too kind,” Severus uttered, feeling nausea mix with the dread already churning in his stomach.

        “No such thing,” the evil...man answered with a dismissive wave of his hand, laughter lacing his voice. “Anything for my most loyal,” he said mockingly. He continued after a pause, his voice hardening to steel. “Now, bring out the half-blood.”

        Severus stared coldly at the shivering, waif-like thing brought before him. His Occlumency shields were up and stronger than ever. He watched as the prisoner, bawling her eyes out and trembling like a leaf, pleaded mercy as the other Death Eaters laughed and jeered, waiting for Severus to being his fun, as the honoured guest of this revelry.

        It wasn’t an honour, and it wouldn’t be fun.

        Not that anyone else would know that, of course. Severus smiled maliciously, something he had perfected years ago. He looks down his nose at the young woman, who he had probably taught. He took a breath and was about to utter his signature spell, when Chrysa- _Potter_ shouted out “ESTER! NO! Snapepleasedon’tpleasenoI’lldoanythi--AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” His...slave screamed in pure agony as his...lord tortured Chrys--Pott-no. Chrysanthemum. He might as well call her by her name if she was really his. He turned to watch as the Dark Lord tortured Chrysanthemum, laughing maniacally. As he watched her writhe under the cruciatus, his heart broke in two, thinking of his young obsession, how he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, then, hearing a foreign whimper, remembered his victim. He looked at her, suddenly recognizing features from what seemed a lifetime ago. Ester Willis, a completely ordinary Ravenclaw girl with decent knowledge in potions whom Chrysanthemum taught in the DA. Ester was a year above Chrysanthemum, and now she was about to die in front of her precious teacher and failed saviour. And she was about to writhe in that same agony as Severus cast his first curse. “ _Frigus Intusunt_ ,” he intoned emotionlessly, and mercifully, one scream ended as his victim’s began. At least Chrysanthemum’s physical torment was over for the moment. Ester’s, however, was just beginning. _Frigus Intusunt_ was a spell created by the Dark Lord for torture, and, if prolonged, eventual death. But that would take weeks, if she was fed minimally. Even in the state of being frozen inside out, Ester would still be able to chew until her jaw slowly locked up from the cold and pain. Her fingers and toes would fall off before she died if Severus wanted to keep this up.

        But he didn't. He simply wanted to end it all, but that would only cause in more pain for Chrysanthemum. And _that_ was unallowable.

        So Severus continued, casting a small Crucio here, and after a five second reprieve, a larger Crucio followed by a simple headache hex that caused an ear splitting shriek, making the other Death Eaters howl in delight. His Lord was especially gleeful to see such a simple spell bring about so much pain.

        Severus “played” with his victim a little more--he refused to call the girl by her name, though he could clearly hear Chrysanthemum whimper the name now and again. It would make it too personal, and therefore unbearable. It already was, having lasted for more than three hours.

        Deciding to finally end this life time of undeserved punishment for Ester--the _victim_ \--he cast _Sectumsempra,_ but the spell only hit Ester-- _THE VICTIM--_ on the side, only increasing her pain and misery.

        He closed his mind to the pain and decided to wandlessly cast his signature again. This time the curse slices across her legs, hands, and face. This is not working. The spell should have cut her neck, quickly killing and silencing her. Instead, her mournful scream pierces the air, everyone's ear drums, but only two hearts.

_If only I didn't have a heart, this would be easier._ Severus thought, deciding to stare E--no. She is only a victim. Nothing else. So Severus stated the victim down, smirking as he decided to forgo the darker spells and simply transfigure his wand unto a sharp knife. Kneeling down in front of the pitiful figure, he wielded the knife, brought it to her neck and whispered, “Good night, darling.”

        With a quick motion, her neck was slit and it's over. Only then did Severus look again at his obsession.

        And inside, he died.

        Chrysanthemum stared in horror at her...master as sat down, placing his hand on her head. Master or monster? She heard him call Ester “darling.” By the grins and cheers, and a few eyerolls from those who probably didn’t approve of Severus, Chrys was able to figure out it was his trademark. Every Death Eater she came in contact with seemed to have one, though it was usually physical of some kind. M--master Severus’ seemed to be cruel comfort and psychological scarring before death.

        Her master looked at her, and she calmed down, looking into his dark eyes. They seemed almost broken, though his stance and stature was proud as ever. She realised _he didn’t like this anymore than she did_. But he was still a Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord’s most valued. However, she was able to accept that on some level, maybe he did have a soul of some kind. It was only a split-second glance, and then the Dark Lord spoke. “My most loyal, what a display. I was thoroughly amused. Take your pet and hold her. She seems quite shaken. Bellatrix, there are four blood traitors in the dungeons. Have them brought up, and you can have your fun with them. Lucius shall assist you.”

        “Yes, my Lord,” the bitch cackled, waved her wand in a complex way that Chrys did not recognize, suddenly four beings were in the open area. Chrysanthemum did not recognize any of the witches or wizards, but that did not stop her guilt. If only she had won the war like she was supposed to, she would not be here, and all these innocents would not be tortured to death. Poor Ester Willis would still be alive, doing whatever it was she liked to do. Art, the girl saviour thought. She loved to make pottery. And now she never would hold a piece of clay in her hands again.

        Severus felt his “pet” shiver and heard her start to cry, no matter how silent she tried to keep it. In a desperate act to comfort the poor gir-woman, he listened to the Dark Lord and bade her rise and sit on his lap. He held her tightly as she leaned into him, and they stayed like that as the four innocents were tortured to insanity and then, mercifully, killed. They stayed like that as the “fun” of the revelry began, more unfortunate innocent wizards and witches used and raped for the pleasure of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

        Finally, thankfully, blessedly, it was all over. Severus knew Chrysanthemum was exhausted, and so was he. He could feel Chrysanthemum almost start crying again when the Dark Lord said "Enjoy her, Severus," the Dark Lord, greatly amused. He knew the potions master's guilt toward the girl, and knew the girl's obsession with a certain Half-Blood Prince. And the madman was waiting with popcorn in his hand to watch the inevitable outcome. Even if she was terrified right now, he had a few more gifts for the pair that was sure to speed to process along.

        As soon as he possibly could, Severus, still clutching Chrysanthemum to his side, disapparated.

~*~

        It was early in the morning when Severus and Harry entered Prince Manor, a "Christmas gift" from the Dark Lord just two weeks earlier. "Come, Chrysanthemum. To bed."

         Chrysanthemum nodded then asked timidly, bracing herself for repercussions, "Sir? You called me Potter the last time. Why Chrysanthemum now?"

        “Excuse me?” Severus asked sharply, showing his displeasure at being questioned. “It does not matter to you whether you are Potter or Chrysanthemum, but it does to me. That is all you need to know on the matter. Understood?”

       Chrysanthemum nodded sullenly and Severus added, eyes glittering almost cruelly, “And if you ever question my authority again, Miss _Potter_ , you will deal with whatever punishment I deem appropriate to mete out.”

       “You mean besides being enslaved to you?” Chrysanthemum shot out recklessly, not heeding Severus’ generous warning about questioning authority.

       _“Miss POTTER!”_ Severus yelled, pulling her close and squeezing her neck just enough to induce fear in the girl’s eyes. “What did I say?” He said softly, almost as if speaking to a lover, but no less dangerously.

       “Not to question your authority or there would be punishment, sir.” More so than already had been given, she thought bitterly, failing to hid tears.

       "This will only be as much a punishment as you decide it to be, _Potter_ ," the older man sneered. "This will be your room. Mine is the adjoining one, and we share a washroom between us."

      "Yes, sir," Chrysanthemum's head bobbed up and down in agreement, her unwashed hair sticking to her skull, yet still as tousled as ever. With eight months of imprisonment, the young woman's seemingly permanently tanned skin had disappeared, replaced by a waxy complexion. She was almost all skin and bone, only a little muscle left on her poor, malnourished body. The young woman's startling green eyes were emptied with hope and filled with despair.

       Severus didn't really know what to do--just that he wanted that look gone. Oh, he knew it was to be expected, was healthy, even. Completely understandable. But Severus absolutely hated it, especially knowing some of that look was because of him. Chrysanthemum didn't know the dour Potions' Master had changed--how could she? Severus was the Dark Lord's left hand, for Merlin's sake--though she couldn’t know that, just that he was favoured--and even more so had make it abundantly clear he hated one Chrysanthemum Paige Potter with every breath. Chrysanthemum hadn't laid eyes on the man since his "death," and probably wouldn't have believed a word out of Severus' mouth regardless. Severus certainly had uphill work.

      "Come, Chrysanthemum, you've had a long night. We'll clean you up, and you can sleep until you feel rested."

      "Yes, sir," Chrysanthemum said in that same defeated tone, and waiting for her new...master to walk into the washroom first, and again waited for Severus to close the door. It wasn't up to her to choose if they had privacy or not, even if it were only she and Master Snape. Her comfort meant nothing.

      "Chrysanthemum,” Severus sighed, closing the door behind him, realising she had no intentions of doing so herself.

      "Sorry, I didn't mean to displease. Forgive me, Master." Chrysanthemum choked out, tears in her eyes.

        Severus' brow furrowed. Obviously Chrysanthemum had been broken almost perfectly. Which meant that earlier kiss had meant nothing. Of course, that too was to be expected, but that was not what the older man wished. Sighing again, he decided to deal with that later. "All is forgiven, Chrysanthemum. Now, please strip and get ready to wash."

         Expecting Chrysanthemum to simply strip quickly and attempt to cover herself, Severus was shocked when instead his new...pet seemed content to strip tease. Fully intending to put a stop to the rather enticing show, Severus reluctantly said, "That's enough, Chrysanthemum." Making as if to leave, Severus made the mistake of looking back into uncertain oregano green eyes, a pale, taut, body, and then down to a shirt off and a too-small green lace bra undone.

         Severus softly gasped, decidedly turned on now that he was letting himself truly take in and appreciate the view.

        Chrysanthemum took Severus' almost indiscernible gasp as permission to step forward, bend down, and ghost her fingers over her new...master's erection and after a moment's hesitation, steeled her resolve and started to undo Master Snape's buttons. She looked up sharply when Master looked down, seemingly shocked. "Master?" Chrysanthemum asked uncertainly, terrified. There was a calculating look in the older man's eyes, bordering on angry...and something else. It was the something else that inspired her fear.

        "Potter, I do not know what you were...trained in, but nothing will be non-consensual between us. You will _only_ touch me intimately, and I you, when we both desire it. Nothing will happen tonight, or anytime soon. Do. You. Understand?"

       Severus watched Chrysanthemum close in on herself, disbelief, hurt, insecurity, and terror displayed clearly on the young woman's face. Chrysanthemum didn't answer, only stared. There were no tears, no sounds, nothing. Chrysanthemum was obviously struggling deeply, and had fallen into some sort of trance. For over an hour, Severus tried to bring her back to no avail.

        In a last ditch effort, Severus placed his hands on Chrysanthemum's shoulders to steady himself and employed Legilimency. Once slipping into the girl's defenceless mind, Severus was bombarded with living nightmare after living nightmare. He tried to focus only on Chrysanthemum's thoughts, but everything pushed at him, clamoring to be noticed. Eventually, Severus was able to focus, but immediately wished he hadn't.

_Why did he say that? I'm supposed to thank him. Listen to him. Does he not want me? Is he disgusted by me? The Dark Lord said I would go to him because he desired me. Maybe Master doesn't? Maybe I really am only a worthless bit-_

      Severus pulled out, appalled. He was shocked at Chrysanthemum's lack of Voldemort's name in his thoughts, but that wasn't the worst of it. _Those_ were her true thoughts? "Chrysanthemum," Severus said, still holding her shoulders. That's when he noticed the young woman was leaning against him, not supporting herself. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing still laboured. So she wasn't asleep, then.

      Severus laid Chrysanthemum on the young woman's bed, trying to revive her. Eventually, exhausted, Severus accepted that the only way to help Chrysanthemum out of her catatonic state was to let her rest.

      Merlin knew the woman needed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for your support on this fic! I wasn't sure how well it would be received, but you all blew me away! *kisses, hugs*


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